


all these colours fade for you

by demauryss



Series: je taime [2]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, and humidity from the rain, lucas is so sad i wanna wrap him up in a blanket, lulu and eli are co-workers, so...., there's a storage room, they're stuck, together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:55:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23277457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demauryss/pseuds/demauryss
Summary: But it’s just his luck - Lucas would say - that out of all the above anddecidedlymuch,muchbetter ways for the universe to gang up on him for all the wrong he’s done, he’s stuck in a room with flaking brown paint on the walls, a broken fan and hanging bulb from the ceiling – both of which are worthy of being featured in a horror movie - and, admittedly, his worst nightmare – tall, beautiful Eliott Demaury, who’s currently jumping on his foot, holding the other one in his hands over the shoes after hitting the door probably too hard.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: je taime [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671385
Comments: 21
Kudos: 161





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for prompt no. 24 requested on my tumblr. title from 'sunlight' by hozier. 
> 
> happy reading :))

When Lucas thinks about it, he figures it can be a lot worse than his current situation. He could be stuck in a dream in which he’s in his philosophy lecture from college which has somehow dragged to ten hours, revisiting the torture inflicted on his poor brain once again. He could be stuck third-wheeling Basile and Daphne – or, front-desk Helene and fourth-floor Sharon on their amazing, brilliant, always adventurous and with too much lovey-dovey stuff dates. And, if worst comes to worst, Lucas could be caught up in the Sammy and Tammy Riots – the STARS – that his neighbours are notorious for starting over issues of minute importance.

But it’s just his luck - Lucas would say - that out of all the above and _decidedly_ much, _much_ better ways for the universe to gang up on him for all the wrong he’s done, he’s stuck in a room with flaking brown paint on the walls, a broken fan and hanging bulb from the ceiling – both of which are worthy of being featured in a horror movie - and, admittedly, his worst nightmare – tall, beautiful Eliott Demaury, who’s currently jumping on his foot, holding the other one in his hands over the shoes after hitting the door probably too hard.

“I told you it won’t work,” Lucas sighs, stretching his legs which have now begun to cramp. He’s made a home for himself against a wall, sitting on the floor covered in dirt and a web courtesy of a spider he saw crawling under the bookshelf Eliott’s currently sulking against. He’s given up trying long ago, picking at the wood flakes on one of the cabinets to his right. Might as well make himself comfortable if he’s going to spend all day here.

“Eliott sit down,” Lucas sighs as Eliott picks up pacing in the room wide as his whole leg – probably even wider, Lucas’s just being dramatic, “You’re giving me anxiety.”

Eliott stops pacing, now standing in front of Lucas. His hands are perched on either sides of his waist as he stares down at Lucas’s reclining figure on the floor. His hair - the obnoxious, _sex_ hair which Lucas has imagined many times passing his fingers through (just to see if they’re as silky as they look, no other reason) – a millimeter away from the bulb which is currently swinging, throws a shadow around the room, making the room resemble more and more to the set of a movie bound to give nightmares. Lucas decides, if he ever makes it out, he’ll direct a movie here.

“But Lucas,” Eliott sighs, lines beginning to form on his forehead. That can’t be good. “I need to be in the Conference Room in thirty minutes. I’m gonna fucking miss the presentation!”

Lucas forces the unease bubbling in his stomach down as he raises his arm to hold Eliott’s wrist, giving it a tug; his supervisor would be walking in the Conference Room in thirty minutes, livid, and with a now unemployed Lucas following behind her, if Lucas makes it out of here by then. Eliott stops his rambling about letting his supervisor down and everything to look at Lucas, eyes filled with so much tension Lucas almost throws up. “Calm down, Eliott,” Lucas says, tugging at the sleeve of Eliott’s camel jacket, “It would be all useless if you walk out of here with a ruptured blood vessel in your head or a dead cardiac tissue.”

Eliott lets a frown take over his features, quickly glancing to where Lucas’s hand is wrapped around his arm. Lucas drops his hand awkwardly, flashing Eliott a hopeful smile. Eliott sighs, dropping his shoulders before sitting himself against the wall in front of Lucas, who realizes his miscalculations just when Eliott stretches out his legs which reach Lucas’s knees. Okay, the room is bigger than _Assistant Mayor Bellwether’s_ room from _Zootopia_. 

“How are you so calm?” Eliott narrows his eyes, watching Lucas intently, like he’s gauging his reaction. He voice is higher, breathy. Lucas fears for the state of his skin, probably prepping to be covered in wrinkles in a couple of minutes. 

“How can I not be?” Lucas shrugs as if he’s been stuck in a room like this a million times before. “You’re taking all the stress with you.” 

Lucas smiles as Eliott giggles, some tension diffusion from his shoulders, “Yeah, I’m stressed out enough for both of us.” Eliott shakes his head, looking down for a bit, playing with the frayed thread of his jeans over his knees. The light over them in the sound-proof, signal-proof room flickers for a bit before turning bright again. Lucas realizes with a heavy heart that his worst fears are going to come true in mere seconds.

“I can’t not worry,” Eliott speaks softly, “My team is presenting the design for the book today. I can’t let them down.” The heaviness inside Lucas’s heart comes up in his throat. Lucas is the assistant of the Managing Editor, Marley, while Eliott leads a whole team of talented graphic artists in the Creatives Deparment. Lucas knows Eliott was supposed to present the design for a book cover. His job is more on line than Lucas’s is.

“Man, I’m never searching for archive files again,” Eliott groans, turning on his phone to see if there’s any network or not. Dejected and with a heavy sigh, he turns it off, looking up at Lucas, “What were you doing here before?”

Lucas shrugs, again, “Same as you, digging up old treasure.” While that’s partly true, Lucas can’t let Eliott know the times he’s spent sat just like this, allegedly on lunch during the break, serving his cold heart with its impulses to look at these fucking old files and memoirs and whatnot, holding worn out pages and pretty handwriting from days computers didn’t exist. _There was a reason how the spot he chose to sit on was so clean, Eliott._

Lucas was busy in one of his sessions again when Eliott had walked in, all bright and fresh from the rain outside. Lucas had squeaked out a ‘Hi’ to Eliott’s pleasant ‘Hello’. It was weird to see Eliott this close after months of admiring him from afar. Even though their departments had caused them to interact with one another on many occasions before, but it was never like in this vicinity before, in a storage room as wide as half of Lucas and with no other person around.

Lucas was in a weird state of panic as Eliott told him of the file he was looking for, something from an artist working here before. And then a thunder, pretty powerful wind and a loud bang of door later, Lucas was stuck in the room with his raging crush and the person the crush was on. No amount of forcing the doorknob breathing its last and swearing at the door to open – or resorting to kicking it – had caused it to budge.

The rain has long since stopped, but the humidity prevails. Fucking physics and its useless fucking phenomenon. Lucas sits with trembling hands, legs now perched up, Eliott’s feet touching his own. Apart from the fear of doing something traumatic for both of them in front of Eliott, the light going out is taking away ten years Lucas’s life every time it flickers. Being stuck in a room with Eliott in front of him? Fucking great. Fantastic. Being stuck with Eliott in total dark? Count him the fuck out.

Eliott sighs once again, catching Lucas’s attention, “Why did it need to stick now?” He looks lost like a child, all tensed shoulders and creased forehead. Lucas can guarantee Eliott’s walking out with permanent health issues.

“Humidity,” Lucas answers, keeping his voice soft, probably too low. It’s as if he doesn’t want anyone to hear but Eliott, which is odd since Lucas could yell and the sound wouldn’t make it past a millimeter outside the door. Fucking fantastic sound-observant room, guys. Would definitely recommend having one in your house/office/whatever building, if you’re up for a quickie or two in terrible, unhygienic conditions.

Eliott looks at Lucas with confusion now replacing the worry in his eyes. Deeming it as a distraction, Lucas continues, “The door must have expanded from the humidity left by the rain. And when it banged shut, the added volume must have caused it to stick.”

Eliott narrows his eyes, “So it won’t open unless it de-expands?”

 _De-expands_. Lucas smiles. Stretching his arms over his head he explains, “That’s right. So, we might be here for a while.”

“As if I don’t know,” Eliott scoffs lightly, leaning against the wall with a quite groan, “What time is it, though? My phone’s almost dead, and neither do I have any signal. Who’d have thought I’d be stuck in a ratty old room with you today?”

Eliott laughs as Lucas gulps down something acrid, a bitter feeling clawing up at his throat. It’s moment like this when he’s reminded of just how out of Eliott’s league Lucas really is. The realization that he won’t ever look at Lucas the same way kicks in much faster than he expects it to. But it’s fine. Lucas is all fine.

With a tremor in his arm, he takes out his phone from his pocket, pressing the home button. He clears his throat, “It’s one-fif-“ And then, like a car clash in slow motion, it happens. Something pops up on the screen. A notification. A message. A _fucking_ message from front-desk Helene asking about his whereabouts. Slowly he turns his vision to the left-corner of the screen. Heart thrumming in his throat and tremor in his hands he leaps up to his feet, Eliott following him with his eyes.

“Lucas? Is everything alr-“

Lucas cuts him off, probably looking like a wild animalescaped from the zoo. “ELIOTT, I’VE GOT IT!!” He yells, previous trepidation about anyone but Eliott hearing him out of the fucking window. Eliott stands up, confused, “Got what?”

Lucas thrusts the phone in Eliott’s face. It takes a momentfor realization to kick inside him, but when it does, it’s beautiful. “Oh God, Oh God. Oh God. Lucas!” He yells,excitedly bouncing up and down on his feet. Thank God. Now Lucas doesn’t have to worry about them running out of oxygen and their corpses decaying with no one knowing where they had went. Thank fucking God.

Lucas peers at the small lines at the corner of his screen which weren’t there minutes ago. Fucking miracles. He wastes no time in dialing Helene’s number, Eliott watching him with a small smile as he stutters out some nonsense involving “the storage room, Helene. Eliott-I’m-we’re stuck. Quick!” It makes no sense to his ears, blood currently filling them, spiked with adrenaline and- and Eliott looking at him like that. As Helene shouts something about being there in seconds, Lucas can’t take his eyes off of the now relaxed and smiling Eliott. His face is soft, soft. Lucas wants to tou-

There’s a bang. Another bang. Lucas jumps ten feet in air, Eliott backing both of them into the cabinet behind them. The door rattles, opening with a loud sound as it smashes just where Lucas was previously standing. He would have been hit in the face if Eliott hadn’t acted wisely. Lucas feels the warmth of Eliott’s hand on his arm too late before he’s being pulled away, Helene jamming into the small space in front of Lucas, several sturdy men behind her. They must have kicked the door open. So Eliott was _really_ up to something, even if it didn’t work then.

“Lucas- oh god, are you okay?” Helene rushes out in a single breath. He chuckles, realizing how hard his hear is actually beating. Well Lucas, time for cover ups, “I’m fine, Lene. Though you should worry about this idiot. Pretty sure his blood pressure has passed the two hundred mark.”

He points to where Eliott stands, still pressed up against the cabinet. Helene shoots him a quick, worry-filled glance before deeming he looks fine. “You two can come with me to the break room. The presentation has been cancelled, that’s what I was going to text you about.”

She pats Lucas’s arm before turning, muttering about stupidrains and humidity. Lucas smiles, beginning to follow her. But he’s stopped in his tracks by a hand wrapping around his wrist. Before he knows he’s being turned around, and enveloped in strong muscular arms, heavenly orange-y sent blurring his senses, and warm face pressed into his neck.

Eliott’s hugging him. Eliott is fucking hugging him. EliottFUCKING Demaury is HUGGING HIM.

Before he could launch Operation PANIC AT THE FUCKING INTIMATE CONTACT WITH HIS CRUSH, Lucas is stopped however by his still sensible brain. Maybe Eliott’s just happy Lucas’s not the last person he’d see before he dies. Yes. That’s plausible. Awkwardly, Lucas wraps his arms around Eliott’s waist, inhaling the scent of oranges currently dominating his brain. Admittedly, Lucas thinks, it feels nice being wrapped up in somebody like this. He’s so much hug-deprived he’ll cry if he thinks about it.

Eliott gives a final squeeze before pulling away, a tentative smile on his face which is too close to Lucas. He can count the freckles. The smile on his face enlarges as Lucas awkwardly steps back. He needs to be professional.

“Thank you,” Eliott says, eyes in pretty crescents. Lucas wants to draw them. “You got me out of this room. I’ll love you forever Lucas, for this.”

Lucas’s heart catches up in his throat again. Eliott winks, before moving around Lucas and walking out of the room. Lucas feels his heartbeat in his ears, head, everywhere. Eliott said ‘I love you’. He probably didn’t mean it. Eliott said “I love you.” He probably didn’t think what he was saying. Eliott said, “I’ll love you forever, Lucas.” Maybe he goes throwing those words around to people helping him. Yes, that’s probably it. It’s not even that deep, Lucas. Eliott didn’t mean it that way. Stop complicating things.

So Lucas takes a deep breath, forces his heart back into his cage, and follows the receding figure of Eliott Deamury into the break-room.


	2. part ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a result of procrastinating on my current wip. en e ways, i hope you enjoy it and that it offers you an escape from these trying times.
> 
> happy reading :))

Lucas was six, still a child and even bigger of an idiot, when he thought the living room was a mighty good place to develop his hockey skills. It was just that - a particularly powerful hit given his size and a particularly loud smash - and all of his life had flashed in front of his eyes. His heart had somehow escaped his ribcage and travelled to his throat; and he was sure if his sobs hadn't blocked the way, he would have vomited his heart out onto the pretty Persian rug by his feet.

But his mother had taken a look at his face - his tear-stained, snot-covered, red face. The cerulean vase was swept by the broom into the trash can waiting, and Lucas had been left with something inside – something sweet and welcoming like the burst of sugar in his mouth; the refreshing cold soothing his dry throat after a hot day; and, the most prominent, a sunlight of warmth and a breeze of calm all packed into one.

("Don't worry baby, it was just a vase." _But you still love me?_ "Yes that I do. I'll love you, no matter what." _I love you too_.)

And it's now, when he thinks about it, how simple it used to be at that time. Those words, and the natural tendency with which they used to tumble out of Lucas's mouth, effortless like the way water flows down a stream - it's something which completely leaves him clueless now, stunned to the bone whenever he thinks about it too much. How it used to be so easy then but somehow turns him into someone not capable of forming a comprehensive thought now is a detail which still evades him.

So he thinks - which is all he’s capable of doing lately - about his mum and Eliott and everyone in this universe. And he makes himself ache a little more.

\--

Lucas tends to let his heart idly wander off to incidents his brain would have blocked from being stored in its hippocampus. It’s become more of an obligation now than a habit, where it feels like his heart would literally come alive if it didn’t transport Lucas to the times things went south. It’s been happening a lot recently: Lucas would be making his coffee in the break room and relive the time he spilled an entire jar of one all over the floor during his first few weeks of awkwardly trailing after Helene. He’d be walking in the hallway and remember how he’s bumped into a potted plant and almost broke it. How he was bitten by a honey-bee once. How he’d once again bumped into one of the coworkers and caused himself to fall flat on his ass. (It also didn’t help that the said coworker had been Eliott, and how it was the first time of them meeting each other.)

And then Lucas would be walking past that store room. There’d be a moment where it would feel like he missed a step; like he’d fall on his face if he didn’t quicken his pace or willed his dead brain to turn his neck in the other direction. There would be a second, a transient, and all-encompassing second, where he’d be made to feel like he’s floating over the clouds as the memory would grip him. But then it’d take a turn for the worse, and Lucas would come spiraling to the ground. His chest heavy, limbs studded with lead as his feet would fumble around themselves, forgetting every way in which they’d be keeping him afloat.

He would try, then. He would try to forget the day, or the words at least. He would make a cage for them; guard them like someone’s holding all of the secrets to the universe inside. He would try. At least.

But then he would see Eliott. Sometimes in passing. Sometimes in sunlight. And other times, he’d stand by him as they would loom over the cursed coffee machine and watch him as he’d fill in Lucas on stuff in his department. He’d watch as Eliott would pretend as if the only other times he ever spoke to Lucas before the store room hadn’t been him being polite out of courtesy and Lucas stuttering broken syllables before running away. As Eliott would exist in puzzles, pieces of him strewn in Lucas’s life, across this room, that hallway. Lucas would pick the piece up. Sometimes, it would sink itself a home in his heart. And often, the splinters of the broken edge would tear a hole in his skin, a jarring cut in his flesh as he’d be forced to remember once again.

As it happens, Lucas finds pieces of himself scattering away. One left with Eliott that day. Another gone when Eliott passes him in the hallway with a smile. When he waves at him through the window. One left in the store room.

And as it happens, Lucas finds himself spending more and then all of his breaks with the others in the break room. It would start with little ventures into the room, then with the shadows behind him lengthening with the passing sun, Lucas would find for himself a seat reserved between Helene and Marcy on the table. He had for himself a place in the inner circle. He had an ear lent to the gossips Helene spends half of the time narrating to the table of desperate onlookers; and a pair of eyes rolling to the back of his head but heart filled with absolute giddiness when Sharon would land a kiss onto an unsuspecting Helene’s lips, and as Helene would go pink but intertwine her hands with Sharon’s under the table.

One time on his way to the break room, Lucas brushes past an Eliott who’s dragging his feet across the tiled floor. Lucas keeps his head low, comes across the closed door of the store room. He stays, eyes moving across the flakey paint and the brown wood underneath.

Sometimes he’d spend minutes, other times he’d avert his eyes as he’d make his way into his newfound substituted haven. “Very kind of you to grace us with your presence, Lucas,” Helene would say a couple days into Lucas following his fresh interest for the break room. Sharon would shake her head, and Lucas would slide in to the chair reserved for him, diving into the lunch he’d have brought for himself.

So as it goes. Lucas doesn’t go back to the store room during the time – or the days following that. 

\--

It was a quiet Tuesday for Lucas before his front door was rudely knocked on. ( _Knock_ was an understatement since the hooligans on the other side almost broke it open with their incessant banging.) As it appears, Basile and Arthur were swimming from head to toe in some liquor bought from a cheap store and Yann was too stoned to stop them as they stumbled through the threshold. Lucas had went forward to try and catch a Basile who just about tripped on his two left feet. His hands had closed around a wet patch of shirt, and Basile’s very own “You really wouldn’t want to know what’s on there,” had caused Lucas to himself push Basile onto the awaiting couch.

“What the hell guys?” Lucas groans as the three idiots settle themselves on the couch previously Lucas was lounging on. “You’re all drunk on a Tuesday.”

“They’re drunk,” Yann replies, voice dull and drawled out, “I’m just high. And besides, time is just a mental and social concept. Nothing means anything nowadays.” Lucas shakes his head as he fits in between half-asleep Arthur and an out of his mind Yann on the small couch now holding four people squeezed together.

Basile is close to dozing off when he notices the container placed on the coffee table. “Are they cookies?” Lucas smiles at the excited glint in his eyes as Basile’s whole face transforms into one similar to a toddler being promised an endless supply of candies. Lucas passes him the container of the cookies, and Basile dives right in.

“Man, they’re heaven,” Basile closes his eyes as he savors the cookies in his own way. Lucas lets out a chuckle, “I’ll be sure to let Tammy know that.”

Tammy is his baker neighbor, while Sammy – well, Samantha but only Lucas has the liberty to call her that – is his dentist neighbor. And Lucas doesn’t know the essence of their relationship, but so far, all of their interactions have been in forms of screams and insults directed at each other. Lucas knows the nature of both of their jobs has more or less got to do with their rivalry. On more occasions than one, Sammy has got into a huge debate with Tammy over her liking to feed Lucas with each bit of sweet she would bake since it’s ruining Lucas’s teeth and all. And Tammy would chide Sammy for her over-interest in the state of Lucas’s teeth and ‘probably scaring the boy away’. Lucas has been a part of many of their bickering, so it felt appropriate for him to name their fights – hence the name STARS came into play.

Basile finishes the cookies, and leans his head on Arthur’s shoulder, closing his eyes, “I’m so tired.” He yawns when Arthur frees his arm and starts patting his head, running a hand through his hair. Lucas snaps a quick picture of their cozy state from his awkward angle.

“Who told you to get smashed,” Lucas smiles when Yann speaks from behind him. His voice is strained, like it’s taking a great deal out of him to even form a syllable of word. Lucas’s theory is proved when Yann snuggles close to Lucas, his eyes drifting close.

“You guys hungry?” Lucas asks as he struggles himself out of Yann and Arthur’s close to dead bodies. “There’s some leftover Chinese. I can heat some up for you if you want.”

There’s some incoherent mumbling from the three boys which Lucas processes as a ‘yes’. Yann’s head falls of Arthur’s curved form as Lucas makes his way to the kitchen, heating up the said food for the boys. Lucas knows that alcohol – or weed, in Yann’s case – tires them out, and Lucas shares this attribute with them. And he knows they can get quite hungry afterwards too.

Lucas brings the food over to the coffee table, swatting Basile’s feet away. He makes his way to the loveseat, as the three boys dig in, with Arthur constantly reminding Basile to close his mouth while eating.

“Hey Lulu?” Basile starts, with a mouth full of food, of course. Drunk Bas is stubborn and slow to process things, “How’s your attempt of getting Eliott to notice you going?”

Lucas actually feels his heart drop into his stomach as Arthur slaps Basile at the back of his head for being _‘a huge fucking idiot.’_ Basile starts rubbing the place and Yann looks at Lucas with eyes softened so much that Lucas starts hating the sight of it. Yann’s the only one knowing about Lucas being stuck with Eliott in the store room that day since, apparently, nothing gets past Yann.

“I’m not trying to get anyone to notice me,” Lucas bites back. It’s truth; since Lucas is always running away, especially from Eliott. And it’s safe to say that his techniques to disappear wherever Eliott’s involved are working perfectly, since he hasn’t talked to Eliott in over four days. But it also stings him a bit to know that he’s just, well, _no one_ to the person who’s on his mind for the better part of the day.

“But why?” Basile scrunches his nose, face full of confusion, “You’re obviously into that guy – don’t bother denying because you’re not as subtle with your pining as you think you are. Right Arthur?”

“I’m afraid that’s a bit of truth,” Arthur supplies to a bewildered Lucas. He has trained himself for years to be in control of his emotions since showing them around certain people has led him to great levels of suffering. It’s now become a second part of him to be calculated around people. So it comes with a lot of surprise to know he’s anything but regarding his feelings involving a certain Eliott Demaury.

“Whatever,” Lucas replies, biting the inside of his cheeks. Why does he have to be so fucking stupid? If Basile being as daft as he is was able to pick up on Lucas’s interest in Eliott, then surely Eliott must have picked it up too. And what if- _what if –_

Lucas looks up as Yann clears his throat. His eyes are empty now, which Lucas is thankful for, “Let it go, guys. Lucas looks tired, and honestly, I’m fucking beat too. If you’re done then I think maybe we should be on our way.”

Lucas shakes his head, asks them to stay. Maybe he won’t feel like he is at the moment if the boys end up staying the night. But Arthur shakes his head, Basile does too with a bit of reluctance. And within a minute, they’re hugging him goodbye.

“Hey,” Yann’s voice is quiet as he hugs him by the threshold. Basile’s hanging on to Arthur a few feet away from them; both drunk in their own world. Yann presses a hand on Lucas’s forehead, the other going to rub at his shoulder, “Don’t stay up late worrying this head of yours, alright?”

Lucas manages a small but convincing smile in return. Pursing his lips Lucas lightly pushes at Yann’s chest, who stumbles back dramatically. Lucas chuckles, “Okay, now go.”

Yann raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, I’m going. No need to kick us out, Jesus.”

Shaking his head, Lucas closes the door behind the three idiots whom Lucas can hear stumbling through the halls. He goes straight for his bed, remembering Yann’s advice to not worry his head.

So naturally that’s what he does.

\--

In some great turn of events, Lucas finds himself standing in front of a small, quaint bakery as the sun sets below the horizon. It’s pink and cerulean, like the vase which Lucas sees through a layer of mist accumulated through years. The street in front of him is getting thinner with people as the day fades into night.

Lucas received a text from Helene as he was beginning to leave his house for Sharon’s birthday party. The bakery had some issues with delivering the cake, and Helene wanted to know if Lucas could pick up the cake on his way to Helene and Sharon’s apartment. And Lucas, remembering all the times he’s bothered Helene with his idiotic and useless stuff and her always coming through with help, agreed instantly.

And now he’s regretting his eagerness to help. Because Helene forgot to mention the cake was apparently so heavy it was going to need two fucking people to pick it up. It also didn’t help that the second person was Eliott fucking Demaury, who was currently walking up to Lucas from the pink of the clouds to the shadowed darkness Lucas was standing under.

“Hi,” Eliott’s lips stretch in a smile with his eyes burning Lucas inside out from their warmth. Lucas takes a deep breath in, forces air into his lungs, energy into his numbing limbs as he forms a semblance of a smile, the action feeling foreign around him all of a sudden.

“Hey.” Lucas breathes back, heart in heavy knots, “Helene asked you to come too?”

Eliott nods his head, eyes flitting down to the gravel before meeting Lucas’s one again. It isn’t often that Lucas sees him anywhere out of office. Hell, he barely sees him in the office these days, so. It’s awkward; being around him like this after what happened last time Lucas was alone with Eliott.

“Yeah, she told me you were picking the cake up so I thought I would keep you company.” Eliott shrugs his shoulder, a smile so wide Lucas has to look away. This isn’t working. But Eliott is walking to the door, pulling it open. There is a whole galaxy above Lucas, but Eliott’s smile is more blinding.

“Shall we?” Eliott asks. Lucas follows.

\--

It happens in a slow blur. Lucas becomes an observer to his own self. The bubble of worry and anxiety blown around Lucas gets dissipated with each drop of alcohol which Lucas drowns. And then his head grows so heavy that Lucas somehow ends up on the roof of Helene’s apartment building.

After him and Eliott picked up the cake, they had taken a bus to Helene’s apartment. There was everything off with the way Lucas could feel all the things while sitting in close proximity to Eliott. How he was so, _so_ aware of every brush of his arm against Eliott; how all the times Eliott leaned over, his breath warm and minty, to point something out to Lucas from the moving bus; how Lucas’s brain had been in an overdrive; and how Lucas couldn’t tell whether Eliott noticed or not.

But Lucas had made it to the venue without making a fool out of himself; a box in his hands and a giddy and smiley Eliott hanging onto his arm. And Lucas took it for what it was – a fleeting moment – for as soon as they had entered through the door, Eliott was swallowed by the crowd. It appeared as if Helene had invited everyone from work and half of the city too.

She greeted him by the door, taking the box holding the cake from his hands. And in her own way of thanking, handed him two bottles of a funny looking liquid - which Lucas accepted gratuitously – asking a mix of _You good?_ and _Where’s Eliott._ Lucas had felt something funny in his stomach as he had replied _I don’t know_ , leaving it to Helene to figure out the question Lucas had answered to.

And then after stumbling through a large crowd with dread clutching at his chest, drowning whatever alcohol he found in his wake and singing an off-key version to a highly overrated birthday song to a very drunk but absolutely happy Sharon, Lucas stumbles through a staircase (don’t ask him how he found it – it’s a mystery, to him and to us both) and onto a rooftop. It’s decorated in flickering stars and orange light. The sky is clear with decked stars – no sign of any rain. Lucas spots a ledge looking over the darkened cityscape, a breeze flowing past him as he makes his way to the ledge.

He’s still nursing the bottle of the peculiar liquid Helene handed him when he looks at the sky with little lambent stars. The moon’s off to the side as Lucas takes a large gulp of the liquid. His brain hasn’t shut down yet, so it’s safe to say Lucas isn’t drunk.

He’s observing a couple of buildings off to a distance when he hears some shuffling behind him. There’s a footstep. Another. Then a whole body plops down onto the ledge beside Lucas.

“Hi.” Eliott’s voice is soft, like the breeze which leaves a cool touch every time it brushes past Lucas. Lucas turns his neck to Eliott shrouded in warmth and orange. Whoever is in charge of making Lucas’s life miserable is not up to the idea of giving his heart a rest for a bit.

“Hey,” Lucas keeps his voice soft despite the inner turmoil he’s under, “What brings you here?”

Lucas keeps his eyes focused on the wall over Eliott’s shoulder. He feels as Eliott breathes, his loopy brain already into overdrive.

“ _You_ ,” Eliott says, “I saw you.”

Lucas feels a dip in his stomach. It feels like falling from a height. Like a rollercoaster going down at full speed after slowly riding up a steep. Lucas wills his head to move a bit to the right; where Eliott’s eyes meeting his unequivocally bright smile blanketed in an array of warmth and starlight. Lucas can’t help his own.

“So you’re stalking me now?” And it feels so much ironic to say when Lucas remembers himself actively seeking out Eliott after the first few days of meeting him. But then he got the memo, and soon, it all stopped.

Eliott has a tilt to his neck as he smiles down at Lucas, closed lips but beautiful all the same. “Maybe,” He speaks with a slight lilt, and Lucas feels his heart bursting in his throat. _Is Eliott Demaury flirting with him?_

He doesn’t have time to ponder whether it’s actually what Lucas thinks it is or if he’s just reading too much into things before Eliott’s speaking again, “And what were you doing?”

Lucas takes a deep breath, the bottle cool in his hold, “I was thinking if it were to rain right now – with thunder and all that - how likely would it be that I get struck by lightning.” Lucas meets Eliott’s eyes. They’re solid and warm. Lucas almost drowns. “Do you know that more people die by getting hit with lightning than from getting attacked by sharks?”

Eliott’s forehead transforms into soft lines. Lucas resists the temptation to reach over and smooth the skin. “That’s _shocking_ to know.”

Lucas lets out a bright laugh. The sound carries itself to Eliott who’s now retained a permanent smile on his face. Lucas shakes his head, “You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re drunk.” Eliott eyes the bottle in his hands. Lucas tries to hide it the best he can. “I’m not. I’m just a little loopy.”

Eliott hums low, looking as if he still doesn’t believe him. Still, he rests his hands on the floor, eyes trained down. “Hey Lucas?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember how we got stuck in that room?”

And Lucas wants to laugh. He wants to scream, Fucking hell. Yes he does. The notion that Eliott expects him to forget the very day Lucas’s world tipped on its axis is quite baffling to Lucas.

But words get lodged inside his throat, and what comes out is a bleary ‘yes’, to which Eliott looks up. “And do you remember the reason I told you of me being there?”

Lucas wants to cry, he decides. Because Eliott isn’t helping him a bit while forcing him to remember that day, “Something about finding archive files, no?”

Eliott nods his head. His eyes have found a home on the floor. And it’s so off – so odd – to see him like this. It’s as if he’s nervous. Of what, Lucas doesn’t know.

“Well, I lied.” He looks up at Lucas, through Lucas. And Lucas feels a tremor travelling through the length of his spine. He’s confused, but he’s more scared.

“What?”

“Yeah.” Eliott breathes. “I always noticed you going into the store room, you see. And I – I wanted to talk to you – You’ve no idea how long I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Lucas. But I always chickened out. And that day – when I followed you into the store room – I had this whole speech planned for asking you out and – and then the door fucking stuck and I also didn’t know how you felt and I panicked. I panicked so bad that I fucked up at the end.”

It takes a moment for Lucas’s brain to catch up to his surroundings. To Eliott’s rambling. To his fucking confession. Lucas turns the words over in his head. _I always noticed you……how long I’ve been wanting to talk to you.…..this whole speech planned for asking you out…._

Lucas for a fleeting second forgets that he’s on a rooftop with a birthday party going on under it. He forgets where he is. And like water overflowing from a dam Lucas feels it with a tonne of force. Eliott likes him. Eliott Demaury _likes_ him. Eliott Fucking Demaury thought about asking him out.

And for what feels like after eternity, Lucas is able to breathe without feeling like bricks stacked upon his chest. “You – you are a _fucking_ idiot.” And he’s told Eliott that before. But it doesn’t matter. Eliott stops speaking, eyes widened and mouth frozen in a sentence. Lucas shakes his head, his heart beating loudly, “Do you realize how much agony you’ve put me through?”

“Y-Yes?” Eliott stutters, and Lucas is so happy he wants to cry. “Lucas, I’m sorry if I made you uncomf-“

“Just shut up you idiot,” Lucas almost shouts, face morphing into a smile at the surprise which takes over Eliott’s features. “I like you. I like you so fucking much.”

It feels like something evaporating from inside Lucas. His hands bunch into fists by his sides. His eyes take in Eliott, but now with a renewed strength. Eliott – who has his eyes widened in shock, body frozen. But soon a blinding smile is crawling onto his face, settling in his eyes. Lucas feels it in his bones.

“Really?” Eliott looks like the star above him. Lucas bites down on a laugh. “I’m – I thought I scared you away with the sudden love confession back there.”

Lucas laughs, it’s airy and lifting. A part of him is still in shock that this – this right here is happening. That he’s telling Eliott that he likes him. That Eliott’s telling him the same thing.

“Lucas, you’re not drunk, right?” Eliott’s asking softly. Lucas has to fight to keep his eyelids from drooping. He hasn’t felt a calm like this in so long. He mumbles his consent in return to Eliott’s question. His stomach is light, and it feels like he can breathe freely in what feels like so long. He looks up at Eliott, eyes open but figures all smudged.

“Then would it be okay of I do this?”

Lucas makes a sound in his throat, “Do what?”

Lucas sees Eliott taking a deep breath, before he’s shuffling closer to Lucas. Something again falls inside of Lucas’s stomach; there’s a hitch in his breath as Eliott leans closer, closer. Till his breath is falling in short puffs against Lucas’s skin and his nose gently nudges against Lucas’s in the briefest of Eskimo kiss.

“This.” Eliott’s voice is a whisper which Lucas feels inside his heart. “ _This_.” He speaks again, willing Lucas to tilt his head just a fraction in response. He sees Eliott through half open eyes; heart in his throat; every muscle of his being buzzing with so much warmth and energy it’s becoming impossible to sit still.

Idly he wonders if it’s just a fever dream, because it isn’t usual for Lucas to get everything he wishes for. And kissing Eliott – Lucas has wanted this as much as he needs air expanding his rib-caged lungs and blood pumping through the framework of vessels inside him.

And as it happens – Lucas exhales a short breath as Eliott comes infinitesimally closer but he still feels so far away. There’s a soft brush of Eliott’s lips to his as he closes his eyes – as his heart bursts in his throat; as his stomach gets hoarded in butterflies. The touch is feather light, but Lucas feels it. And then – finally, finally – Eliott’s lips are enveloping Lucas’s. Lucas’s hands come to rest around Eliott’s neck; Eliott’s own getting entangled in Lucas – one gripping his hair and the other caressing the skin on Lucas’s cheek.

Lucas tilts his neck to the side, sighing into Eliott’s mouth as he deepens the kiss. It feels like coming home when Eliott licks into Lucas’s mouth – their teeth clashing and bodies melting into each other with the way they’re pressed together.

Eliott pulls away first, his breathing heavy and eyes wild. Lucas is aware of a light from a building flickering on behind him. “Tell me a fact,” he says, and Lucas drowns.

Lucas wets his lips, Eliott’s still cupping his cheeks. “Research says that if one Eliott Demaury were to ask one Lucas Lallemant out right at this moment, there’s a zero percent chance that he would get a no in response.”

Eliott’s laugh, as it comes, make a home inside Lucas’s heart. There’s a dip inside his stomach once again. But this time, Lucas lands safely on his feet.

“Then we must not waste any time then, right?” His hands are travelling south, and soon they are enveloping’s Lucas’s hands placed on his lap. Lucas sighs when his palm fits inside Eliott’s as he pulls the both of them to their feet.

“Shall we?” Eliott asks. And Lucas follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are highly appreciated. 
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr: [@demaurys](https://demauryss.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: [@demauryss](https://demauryss.tumblr.com)


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